The young man turned a pair of smouldering eyes upon his enemies.
He looked ill and haggard, although, except for the wound half
concealed beneath his hair, he showed no marks. Then he held out
his hands with a grim smile, and the woman uttered a low cry at
what she saw. "They gave me another good beating yesterday," he
said.

"While you were in jail?" Cortlandt queried, incredulously. "God!"

"That's the fellow yonder." Kirk pointed to Alfarez, whose smile
had disappeared.

"Oh, the man is mistake'," the latter hastened to aver. "He is
crazee."

"I gave you a wetting in public, and--"

"Si, si! That is correc', Senor Cortlan'. He insolt my person an'
fight my soldiers. He is ver' toff person."

"Did you know he had been maltreated in prison?" Cortlandt
demanded.

"Oh, senor!" Alfarez raised his hands in horrified disclaimer of
the very thought, but his victim said, quietly:

"He's a liar. He ordered it, then sat there and enjoyed it."

The Panamanian's face was yellow as he managed to enunciate: